From the foot of my bed,
I felt icy cold dread,
fingers pulling at sheets
and that voice,
that wakes me from my sleep,
the gurgled roar
of the undead.
Sounds almost like
thunder crashing
through my head.
The smoky demons spoke
in grating tones,
unintelligible,
rasping reverberating moans,
cut with staccato shouts,
groans through sinister pouts.
They circled and flew about,
always moving,
so, I was trapped throughout.
They glared with eyes of red,
fangs of yellow,
glinted like blades,
They bared their teeth,
in vicious snarls.
Growling, laughing,
howling gnarls.
The wicked words twisted
like branches
from an old, crooked
bramble tree.
They were here
to devour me.
Long past midnight,
they leapt about,
with such purpose and glee.
Manic, frightfully stuttering
in the strobing glare
of fluorescent light.
I panic. I want to flee.
But there is no way through.
This grim dance like an impenetrable wall.
No cracks to break through,
nowhere to crawl.
I close my eyes.
Tight.
I let the demons win
as their icy fingers touch my skin.
Thanks for reading
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100+ all new poems not shared here before.
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